Illusions
by Love From A Muggle
Summary: She's not acting her normal self.Or is she? Hermione Granger, At The Burrow, With a Knife. Written for Clue: A Harry Potter style challenge at Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenge Forum, and Hogwarts Online II Hufflepuff house challenge


Written for two different reasons.

Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenge Forum-Clue-Harry Potter Style Challenge by:

My Prompt: Hermione Granger, in the Burrow, with a Knife.

EvangelineKL

And

Hufflepuff Common Room's Dream Challenge set by Love From A Muggle aka myself.

Author's note. Hermione's O.O.C in the story, but read it till the end and you'll discover why. means a sudden change in the story. Takes place right after the war, back at the Burrow.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

><p>Hermione felt betrayed. The one person she thought she could trust after the war turned against her. Ron Weasley went back to Lavender Brown after the second wizard war. Hermione's last night at the Burrow before she went off in search of her parents was a horrible one. Instead of the atmosphere at the Burrow being cheerful, as it usually was, it felt oppressive. She felt very much alone. Ginny had Harry, Ron had Lavender once more after the War. Even though they kissed, Ron still went back to Lavender, and everyone else had someone. Hermione had no one. She knew George would feel the same way and went searching for George.<p>

"Go away, " George's deep voice said as she entered his room without knocking.

Perhaps it was the shiny object that twinkled in between her hands as she played with it, purposely catching the light of the room and letting it lay on George's face, but George looked up.

"Hermione, what in Merlin's-" he asked as he jumped up from his chair.

"You and I don't have anyone," she commented.

"Excuse me?" He eyed her suspiciously.

"We're alone. Everyone is paired up in some form of relationship except us. Since Fred died, we're loners. No one wants us. Have you ever heard of The Island of Misfit Toys?" She said in an eerie tone.

"You're acting very weird. Are you drunk?" George asked backing up towards his bed as Hermione came close, still holding the shining 'object.'

"Well? Have you?" she asked again.

"I've never heard of that." George leaned up against the bed, practically falling on it. He placed his hands down, catching himself.

"Muggles use it to scare their children if they are bad at Christmas. At least, that's what I've always heard. The Island of Misfit Toys is for the toys no one wants. All the broken toys, or toys that don't match, or have a piece missing, you get the idea." Hermione's tone scared George. He finally saw that the object in her hands was.

"Put down the knife Hermione. You're delirious, you need sleep. You're not talking like your normal self." He stood up, walked towards her, and tried taking the knife from her hands. She was prepared for this. As he moved towards the knife, she flung it high above her head, taking one of his arms she twisted it around his back. The knife came down close to his neck.

"Hermione, what in the bloody hell? Let me go." George didn't dare to wiggle free.

"You listen to me. I need your help. You're the only one who understands how I feel. I want to kill off every single member of the family." Hermione's voice was no longer normal. It was as if she was possessed.

George felt his Gryffindor bravery flooding through his veins as he kicked her in the stomach. Hermione dropped the knife just as George's hand came across her cheek. She screamed as he picked up the knife holding it towards her neck.

"George! Wait!" She tried to scream again, but he covered her mouth with his hand. With a house full of people, no one dared come in to see what was going on. They were all too busy with their own lives.

"Now you listen to me Hermione. I've got the knife and I know how to use it. Don't you dare kill anyone in my family. I don't know what's come over you, but you're not you. I know I don't know you that well, but I know you're acting very odd. Is there anything you want to tell me?" George said holding the knife closer to her.

"I drank. Alright? I'm drunk right now. I don't know what I'm doing. I stole your parents' Firewhiskey and drank half a bottle. I don't drink at all hardly so when I drink, I get light headed from a small amount. When you slapped me, you brought me back to my normal- sweet Merlin, is that a knife?" Hermione said as she realized what George was holding next to her neck.

"Yes. You brought it in. Don't you remember?" George said dropping the knife on his desk.

"Obviously not," Hermione said sarcastically. She then stood up and started laughing hysterically.

"Hermione?" George gave her a weird look.

"I get it now."

"Get what?" George asked.

"Hermione Granger, in the Burrow with the Knife," she said, smiling a stupid smile.

"Huh?"

"It's a game Muggles play called "Clue". They try to figure out who the killer was. That might be why I had a knife, " Hermione said, eying the shiny object.

"I think you need to get some sleep, " George said as he walked towards the door to open it again.

"George, ignore everything I said, okay? And don't tell me in the morning what I did. I don't want to remember anything. If I was mean, I'm sorry," Hermione said as he gently walked her out of his room and into his sister, Ginny's room. Ginny and Harry were in there alone when George walked in with Hermione.

"What in the bloody hell happened to her?" Harry asked as he put down the magazine he was reading. Hermione stared at Harry her eyes were glazed.

"She's drunk. Only don't tell her I told you that." George looked at Ginny for help. Ginny rushed to her brother's aid and helped lay Hermione down.

Hermione awoke with a start, sweating. She stared at Ron lying next to her sound asleep. She muttered under her breath.

"Hermione Granger, at The Burrow, with a Knife," she spoke softly. Ron stirred, turned on his side facing her and opened his eyes.

"What?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing, I had a nightmare. Go back to sleep," Hermione said as she kissed his forehead.

Hermione breathed in and out, sighing in relief knowing that wound never happen. She was glad it was just a dream.


End file.
